Failure to Disengage
by waywardvictorian
Summary: Squeal to Fifty and Five Peaches, Harry is moping in America, Marcus is in England. This poses a problem. Marcus/Harry
1. Hermione

**Failure to Disengage: Part I Hermione**

**A.N: This is the squeal to Fifty and Five, I do hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: Will never own.  
**

Harry stood outside the grey building, at the edge of the sidewalk. All around him people flowed toward the blue double door of the high school. He pulled the oversized black jacket closer and stepped from the curb walking toward what he could only compare to hell.

The day was a blur of names and faces none of which he was going to remember, he made it to all of his assigned classes yet he knew he'd get just as lost the next day. He didn't speak unless it was necessary- it hardly ever was. His mother's hopeful exclamation of, "Make new friends!" was ignored; he opted to sit alone for lunch. He didn't bother setting foot in the lunch room, rather he straddled the long wall that ran parallel to the bus lane. A heavily duct taped pair of head phones blocked out the nearby students chatter.

As first days go Harry Potter's wasn't a huge success, it was far closer to a dismal failure. He was angry and was planning on taking it out on anyone and everyone he could. He wanted to make his parents as hurt and angry as he was and knew he was still going to be the only one suffering but god damn it this sucked.

His mood only worsened as the day wore on. After the school day had finally ended he ended up huddled under the overhang in front of the school, he'd missed the bus.

Rain pounded the pavement, the large drops splashed back up after they hit, and he wondered if he should call his mother- he wouldn't have to walk home, but she'd scold him and then ask the sort of questions that'd make him want to hit something. They'd argue, she'd cry, and then his father would get involved and it would all go to hell.

He'd rather walk. He stood and brushed off his pants, and stepped into the down pour, he shuttered as the large cold drops hit his skin. He pulled the black jacket even tighter around him, the sleeves were rolled over at the cuffs: it had been one of Marcus's. Harry hadn't realized he'd had it until the night before and he hadn't taken it off since he'd found it.

The walk home wasn't as long as he thought it was going to be, he pulled his phone from his pocket, turned it on, and watched as the rectangular screen lit up and the phone buzzed. He scrolled through his messages; it was from Bella, "Don't sulk, you wanker. Make some replacement mates. Also call Marcus; he misses you even if he won't admit it. Love- B"

He smiled, and clumsily typed out a reply, saying he didn't want replacement mates, and he missed them and yes he would call Marcus. But as he thought about it, Bella was right, he needed to stop sulking and not make a shitty situation anymore shitty than it need to be. He could at least try to make friends, not that he really had any previous experience. Marcus didn't count.

He pushed his soggy black bangs out of his eyes, and climbed the steps to his front door. It was locked, his mother wasn't home. Score.

He let himself in and trudged up stairs, not caring about tracking mud all through the house. He hung Marcus' jacket on the back of a chair; the rest of his wet cloths ended up in the bath tub in the adjoined bathroom. He dressed quickly; he planned on making use of his mother's absence. He kicked his door closed, and bent and dug around under his mattress, "Yes!" he muttered, his fingers closed around what he was looking for. He extracted a not very crushed pack of cigarettes, pulled one free, and opened his window. He sat on the ledge and lit up, leaning heavily against the wall. This was not how he planned on spending his junior year at all.

His held his phone in his hand, and after starring at it for what felt like an eternity, gave in and flipped it open. It rang and rang, and eventually he got to the message machine, but just hung up.

"Fuck..."he muttered, he pulled his knees to his chest. He just wanted to go home.

The next day dawned far too early, Harry had been up half the night, doing nothing all that important, unable to sleep. He was ready to murder his overly perky mother when she woke him the next morning, but swallowed his biting retort as he was still on thin ice with his parents. His reaction when he was informed of the move hadn't gone over well at all.

Thinking back on it, he really could have reacted better. Harry remembered that day far clearer then he would have liked. He argued with his father earlier, about something stupid. That's all they seemed to do anymore was fight about the stupidest things. He had been sitting at his desk, his feet propped up on his desk, texting Marcus when one of his parents knocked on the door.

"What?" he called, still irritated from his earlier argument.

"Harry-dear, we need to talk to you," his mother's soft voice floated through the door.

Stowing his phone, he glanced around the room making sure his parents wouldn't accidentally see his cigarette stash; he knew whatever she wanted to say he wasn't going to want to hear.

"Fine- come in." he sighed; he didn't understand. For the first time ever he was happy, he had friends but they always said he was doing something wrong. He just didn't understand.

His mother opened the door; she pursed her lips, but didn't comment on the mess of cloths on the floor. She sat on the edge of the bed, and smoothed the deep blue comforter. Harry was watching her, but he could see his father standing in the door way, leaning on the frame.

"Is there a problem mum?" he asked, tilting his head bangs falling over his eyes.

His father scoffed from the door way but Lily silenced him with a very pointed look. Harry didn't like this at all. "Well dear-," his mother started, she bit her lower lip.

James interrupted, "Where were you last night?"

"James!" Lily snapped, her green eyes flashing.

"I was out," bit back Harry.

"That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Harry," she started,

"Well. That's what I want to talk about." responded James.

It went downhill from there, Harry remembered, yelling at his father, asking why it mattered where he was. He had friends, for once, James should be happy for him. James had laughed bitterly, saying that anyone who hung out down Knockturn Alley was a low life, not worth his time, and that's when he told Harry they were moving. Harry could still remember the exact words, "It doesn't matter whether you think about those losers. After next week you'll never see them again, and they'll just forget all about you."

He had frozen and stuttered out a question, to be told they were leaving for America the next week. He hadn't stayed for the rest of the details. He had run, and only stopped when he collapsed onto Marcus' floor.

Marcus had opened the door; he looked confused to why his boy was standing panting on his door step face tear stained. "You ok-Christ! Harry!"

Harry lay panting on the hard wood floor, his chest heaving, he could barely breath. Each breath ripped through his lungs, and sobs racked his body. His vision blurred with tears. Afterward Marcus wouldn't admit it but he had been scared seeing Harry lie there, a total mess.

Marcus kicked the door shut, and dropped ungracefully to the floor. He pulled Harry into his lap and held the boy close to his chest. He used the wall for support and wrapped himself around the sobbing boy.

Harry didn't remember what happened afterwards very well, he remembered Marcus holding him, and he remembered crying for a long time, but then everything started to blur together, but he knew Bella had been there, and Marcus had been angry, and that in the end, he had made Harry go home. He'd said that Harry was too good to drop out like he had, he needed to go with his family.

Harry had returned home not only in tears, but furious. His father had been livid, and since the relations in the house had only moderately improved he had stood outside the school, a cold dread settled into his stomach. He wasn't going back, it wasn't a dream and he wasn't going to wake up on Marcus' floor.

And with this realization the pain of losing his only friends dulled slightly, because he had to face reality now and he walked through the blue double doors, head held high. Directly to his left was the front office, to his right a hall leading off somewhere he hadn't been yet. Past the office the school opened creating a large open space.

The windows of the library lined one side; near the middle was a crooked looking set of stairs. The students flowing into the building with Harry broke off from the pack and migrated to the tables and couches spread sporadically around the room. The largest, and by far the loudest, was congregated under the stairs. Instead of awkwardly trying to join one of the groups Harry headed up the stairs in search of the locker he had been promised.

He wandered aimlessly, he soon realized that the second floor was a large square, and he was back where he started. He did manage to find his locker, but wasn't able to open it, something he didn't consider to be much of a loss. He was leaning against the un-open-able locker when the bell rang, and his day officially began.

He pulled the wrinkled schedule from the depths of his bag (that he hadn't put into his locker). Apparently, he was due to be in English, which just happened to be on the other side of the building, somewhere on the first floor. Harry headed off in what he assumed was the right direction, eventually (long after the tardy bell had rung) finding the right room.

The teacher had yet to arrive, and he was able to slip in mostly unnoticed. He took the empty table in the back, and blocked out the surrounding students chatter, he was rooting trough his bag for his phone, when he heard hurried approaching footsteps, and heard someone fall into the chair next to him. He looked up. That was how he met Hermione, the first friend he ever made for himself without having kissed them first.


	2. Interlude

_Failure to Disengage: Interlude_

She was out of breath and disheveled. Her frizzy brown hair was coming out of its up-do and framed her face in a wild halo. Still she smiled at Harry. "You don't mind if I sit here do you?" she puffed.

Harry stared at her, and wondered why she bothered to ask at all. But he nodded all the same.

"You're the new kid that Professor McGonagall mentioned aren't you." she stated, looking him over and sitting up a little straighter. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," he supplied.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said smiling; she moved around the end of the table to sit closer to him, "Can I see your schedule?"

He pulled out the wrinkled paper and handed to her, she looked scandalized by his treatment of his things, but accepted it. They both bent low, and she started to tell him all about his classes and teachers. From then on it wasn't often she left his side.


	3. Ron

**A/n: **Here is chapter two, three should be up in a few weeks. I want to thank you everyone who's reviewed- really every single one make me so happy. Also I want to Thank Ex Mentis for betaing for me and doing a totally fabulous job- as always. Please review and tell me what you think!

-V

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

**Part Two: Ron**

"Honestly Harry, it's just bad luck," Hermione told him. They sat under one of the small maple trees, backs against the wall that ran the length of the bus lane, enjoying the unseasonably warm October day.

Harry slumped, raking his hands over his face in frustration. "I know - that just makes it worse, why do I have to have Binns, why can't it be someone who deserves to suffer?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and bent over her math book, the autumn breeze ruffling her hair. Harry was unwilling to go back to the world of rational functions just yet; he lay back on the yellowing grass and looked up at the blue cloudless sky, he closed his eyes and was just starting to drift off (he was still in a post-Binns haze) when Hermione squeaked. He looked over at her; she was stock still and bright red.

"Harry," she squeaked, "that's him!"

Harry dazedly looked around, "Where Hermione?" he asked.

"T-there by the basketball court. He's the one with the red hair and freckles."

Harry scanned the crowd by the basketball court, and saw a distinctly red head towering over the rest. "The freakishly tall one?" he asked.

"He is _not_ freakishly tall!" said Hermione outraged, "He's just taller than average..."

"Right, and I'm secretly a ginger," responded Harry.

"Oh. My. God-he's looking over here. HARRY! He's walking this way- do I look okay- ohmigod what am I going to do?" she hissed, a hand gripping his arm so tightly he was sure she'd draw blood. Harry tried to suppress a shuttering laugh but failed, and shrugged, she thankfully let go of his arm and glared at him. "Some help you are," she muttered darkly before desperately trying to tame her frizzy hair.

The lanky red head walked up the hill, and waved good naturedly, "Hi Hermione- I was wondering if we could work on that French project after school Thursday."

Hermione looked up from her math book, and coolly tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Well Ronald, I like your work ethic. It's always better to get a head start on this sort of thing. I can do Thursday, around three. But don't be late I do have more important things I could be doing."

"Uh-okay, I'll try. Hey- you're Harry right? I'm Ron," he said turning and grinning at Harry.

Harry nodded, he was afraid to open his mouth less he start laughing like a mad man.

Ron shuffled awkwardly. "Well, I gotta go... see you later Hermione. Harry."

After he disappeared back over the edge of the hill, Harry turned to Hermione, eye brow raised. "More important things to do? Like what- hang around my house moaning about your love of a certain red head?"

"Shut up."

Harry sniggered, he found it very amusing that someone as logical and quick witted as Hermione had no idea how to deal with a silly school girl crush on a boy with the emotional range of a teaspoon. What made the situation even more amusing was that somehow he ended up partnered with Ron in Chemistry.

Hermione couldn't decide if she envied or pitied Harry. Ron was pants at anything to do with the subject; Harry on the other hand wasn't bad at chemistry per say, rather, he was careless, often ending up in numerous chemistry related accidents. Together the two of them were a menace.

Snape, the teacher, had hated Harry for unknown reasons from the second he entered the class, a hatred that only grew as the two boys smashed their way through an impressive number of test tubes. Ron and Harry really had nothing in common what so ever, but bonded over their mutual hatred of Snape- the greasy git. It was the kind of bond that couldn't be broken. Ron's stool was pulled close to Harry's, both of them on one side of the black lab table, bent over the worksheet that they were supposed to be completing.

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Ron, "I wasn't paying attention."

"Haven't the foggiest," said Harry. He tried to decipher the directions, while Ron stood up and in what he though was a surreptitious manner looked to see what everyone else was doing. "I think we need a beaker," said Harry after consulting the directions for a minute.

"Hermione has a beaker," commented Ron, "and it has water in it."

"We'd better get one then."

They wandered across the lab; Harry found a clean beaker and was filling it with water while Ron was enthusiastically telling him about the football game the night before. Harry nodded along totally uninterested; they were walking back to their station when the beaker shattered *. Glass flew in every direction, though a few shards managed to land three tables over in front of a livid Snape. Harry and Ron looked at each other, equally bemused. Harry shrugged, Ron shrugged, then Snape swooped down on them. "What have you to complete idiots managed to do now?" he hissed, black eyes dangerously narrowed.

Harry opened his mouth, closed it and said, "I-I don't know, sir. It just exploded."

"Yeah!" piped up Ron, It just- well exploded," he added sheepishly and shrugged. Snape glared.

"Hey Harry," said Ron, "you're bleeding."

"Am I?" asked Harry glancing at his hand curiously.

"Yeah- yeah you are."

"Well would you look at that."

Snape, who was seething, promptly sent them both to detention, if only to get them out of his sight.

"Damn it," grumbled Ron, as they slunk down the hall, "that's twice this week. Mum's going to go ballistic."

"Sorry…" said Harry sheepishly.

"Nah, it's not your fault. Snape's just a shit head, everyone knows that, and you didn't even do anything, the beaker just blew up. Anyway wanna come over and play the new 'Black Ops' when we get out?"

"Don't you have to meet Hermione and finish that project? She's been on about it all week, it's due soon right?"

Ron moaned. "I forgot, ugh...we've been working on the damn thing for weeks- I don't want to go..."

"She'll kill you." said Harry

"I knooow..."

Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Tough luck mate."

Three hours of torturous boredom later they were freed. Ron trooped out after Harry stretching. He'd fallen asleep in the first five minutes leaving Harry to suffer alone with the evil Umbridge woman. Fortunately for Ron, she was called off somewhere and left the crazy Trelawney woman in charge. Harry was almost convinced she was worse, almost.

Hermione was waiting for them outside the door- she was not happy.

"That was your second detention this week! What the hell did you do?" she snapped,

"The beaker exploded- ," started Ron.

"And if Snape wasn't an utter tosser- ," interrupted Harry.

Hermione threw up her hands, "Snape again?"

"He hates me," commented Harry.

"Don't be silly," she snapped.

"No really! He's evil- I bet he made it explode on purpose and was trying to kill us!" added Ron emphatically. Harry nodded.

"You- you fucking asymptotes! He's a teacher for Christ's sake-! Aarghhhh! You two make me so mad; find me when you're sensible!" she said before she whirled around and stomped off toward the library.

Both boys were quite.

"What's an asymptote?" asked Ron.

"It has something to do with math- I think." said Harry.

"Oh."

"You better follow her, or she'll never forgive you." said Harry.

"Yeah" muttered Ron, he sighed and slopped off toward the library

Harry watched Ron disappear around the corner after Hermione and grinned, he was sure that Ron liked her as much as she liked him, and he'd get the balls to ask her out eventually- maybe.

Harry sat in the window of his room, cigarette between his lips, neither of his parents were home. '_Thank god for small favors_,' he thought, breathing in a deep lung full of smoke, and pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen came to life- it was 5:15 pm so that meant in England it'd be 10 ish, give or take an hour.

Harry dialed, and sighed, blowing a stream of smoke out his open window. While it rang he shivered and decided that this was an utterly unpractical habit; it was cold and when he ran out he would have no way to get more cigarettes. '_Well, I guess that'll be the end of that then_,' he thought sourly. The phone continued to ring; he was frustrated and was going to hang up when the other end was answered violently.

Harry heard a thud, a muttered curse, and something crash to the floor.

"Hello?"

"Marc? Its Harry."

"Hey-how's America?" Marcus asked his voice thick with sleep.

"Utter crap, but I met two people. Did I wake you?"

"Mhm- don't mind- tell me about your replacement mates."

"Well, there's Hermione- you'd hate her. She's the most sensible person I've ever met. She's smart, and logical and really funny, but most of the time it isn't on purpose. She called me an asymptote today," Harry told him.

"A what?" Marcus asked; Harry could hear the coffee pot in the back ground.

"An asymptote- don't ask what it is. It has something to do with the math lesson I'm supposed to be learning, really I have no idea. Hermione does, she's so sensible."

"I think I hate her already," muttered Marcus

Harry laughed, "You would, and then there's Ron. Good bloke, but def. Dim. Hermione's _mental_ about him."

"Sort of sounds like me."

"But you aren't ginger."

"Point."

Harry yanked his window closed, feet propped up on the wall. "How's everyone?" he asked.

"Don't know, been so fucking busy lately- got another job. Haven't seen anyone; Bella's going to kill me if I don't stop 'round eventually. Ah-shit I gotta go, later?"

Harry's quiet, "Bye..." was cut off when Marcus put down the phone.

Harry slumped over. "Shit..." he groaned. He hated this-he hated living here. He missed Marcus and his _friends, _who he was beginning to think he would never see again. Harry stubbed out his cigarette and immaturely tossed himself onto this bed to sulk. He landed on the coat he'd accidentally stolen from Marcus and his bag. He moodily kicked the bag to the floor, the contents spilling across the room.

He really couldn't care less. He lay wrapped up in the oversized jacket, staring at the ceiling, over-thinking everything. He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there, but the sound of hurried footsteps pounding up the steps brought him out of his stupor. Hermione burst into his room red faced and very out of breath. She was grinning and had a manic look about the eyes.

"Harry," she wheezed, "you'll never believe what just happened..."

"So what happened?" he asked

"It's just un-believable."

"Really- so I won't believe it?" he asked teasing her.

"No! You won't- but I'll tell you," she said grinning like a mad man.

"Better tell me then," he said smiling, he'd sat up and was watching his irate friend pace the length of his room.

"Okay- so," started Hermione taking a big breath, "after you and Ron were totally juvenile earlier."

"I resent that statement."

"ANYWAY-" she said giving him a _very _pointed look. He held up his hand in defeat, and motioned for her to continue; she did happily. "- he followed me to the library. He was totally unhelpful- he always is. But I think he was trying this time, he didn't fall asleep, and he was making suggestions even if they were all really stupid. But that's not important- the important part is that… HE KISSED ME!" she shrieked grinning and spinning around his room.

Harry sat gaping at her. "Wait- slow down! What happened?" he demanded sitting up intently.

"We were packing up," she said dancing giddily, "and he was thanking me for helping him and putting up with his stupidity for so long. He said I was much better than our teacher and he sort of leaned over and kissed me. On. The. Lips! It wasn't even very special- just a peck- but ohmigod Ron Weasley kissed _me_!" she gushed, promptly falling back onto the bed next to Harry.

"That is utterly brilliant Hermione- ," he started, but she cut him off voice low and dangerous, "Harry James Potter," she hissed, "are those cigarettes I see on your floor?"

"Oh shit," he said.

"Oh shit is right," she growled.

She was mad as hell and was going to tell his mother, Harry was desperate and in the end he told her how he met Marcus and how he ended up smoking- even if it was foolish. He was willing to do just about anything to get her to agree to not tell his mother; he really didn't want die just yet.

She did finally agree to keep his secret, but only because she secretly thought it was a romantic story and because he only had one left and was going to have to quite whether he liked it or not. Once she was placated, she lay back next to him.

"So that huge jacket's his then? I wondered why you wore it all the time."

Harry nodded.

"Tell me about them- your friends," she prompted. He did- and it was harder then he'd thought it would be. He told her about going to the Impostor- how Marcus failed to graduate and that Bella gave him a job. About the group that practically _lived_ in the cafe.

Luna with her wild imagination, overflowing with stories (some of which she wrote down, others she didn't), but she always told Harry about the magical places in her head. Lee and his infectious laugher and dancing eyes; he was the one that always got them in trouble (Hermione sniffed disapprovingly). And Adrian, who always got them out of trouble. He told her all he could, detailed 2 am adventures and the problems with his parents.

And he told her about Marcus, how strong the boy was, about the apartment that Marcus always told Harry was as much his as it was Marcus's; he talked until his voice was raw and the light had left his room leaving them in the dark.

Hermione lay next to him and listened, sometimes she'd make a comment but mostly kept her mouth closed, and when he was finished she pulled him into her arms. They lay still in the dark room. Harry broke the silence, "Tell me more about Ron," he rasped.

"Let's get some tea first, you sound awful."

He led her down stairs into the kitchen, then promptly back out of the kitchen. His mother had come home while the two of them had been locked up in his room. This was an awkward situation. Lily took an instant shine to Hermione and all but demanded that she stay for dinner.

Harry told Hermione to escape while she could, but she just laughed and joined him on the couch. Much to Harry's horror she very much enjoyed talking to his parents over dinner. He dreaded the conversation after she left.

"I better get going Mrs. Potter. Thanks for dinner, it was scrumptious," said Hermione, while putting on her coat.

"It's no problem at all- but please don't call me Mrs. Potter. Lily is fine. It makes me feel so-ugh- old," she shuttered, her bright red hair shaking.

Hermione blushed, "Alright Lily, thanks again." She waved and stepped outside into the cold. She only lived a few houses away and could often be found at the Potter's after school.

Harry escaped up-stairs as fast as he could, he didn't want to hear about how good of a couple his mother thought he and Hermione would make. Really he didn't want to talk to them about anything. He lay on his bed, arm thrown over his eyes.

He was short a boyfriend, but had managed to make two friends of his own. A feat he was proud of. He didn't know what to think- he wanted to see Marcus, but then, what about Hermione? This was far more complicated then he would have liked.

* based on a real situation concerning my chemistry challenged best friend.


	4. Draco

**Part III Draco**

**A/n** Sorry for the long wait. I want to thank you all for reviewing and sticking around. I think there is a problem with my doc. x- I don't know honestly. Since it's been so long this chapter is un-beta-ed, as soon as I get the beta-ed version I will remedy this. In the mean time please point out any error you find so I may fix them. I will try and have the next chapter up in the next few days or so. As always please review and tell me what you think!

-V

Harry didn't know who Draco Malfoy was-yet. But he did know Ron hated him- the slimy shit head. He also knew Draco was rich- really rich, and pretty, or that's what Hermione had told him.

Ron had become a permanent fixture, something that both exasperated and over joyed Hermione. He and Harry worked their way across the school towards American History, taught by one Professor Binns, only the most boring teacher this side of the universe.

Ron was complaining- and as usual it was about Malfoy. Harry was convinced Ron was exaggerating- no one actually acted like that. They rounded the comer near the chem lab and Ron crashed into someone, who shook white blond hair out of grey eyes and glared up at Ron. ( He was freakishly tall, after all) 

"Watch it Weasel-be, wouldn't want to break something you couldn't pay for, God your family must have a hard enough time as it is, look at that sweater."

Ron went a horrible tomato red that extended all the way to his ears, and made his freckles stand out even more than normal.

"Go to hell Malfoy!"

Malfoy raised an elegant brow, " you aren't very imaginative are you, pity, poor and stupid, such a shame."

Harry glared, he couldn't believe this guy was real, "Watch, who you're calling stupid, you fowl little git." added Harry coolly.

Draco rounded on him, and looked down his perfect nose, sneering, hand on his hip. He smirked, " I don't listen to trash."

Harry wasn't intimated by Malfoy what so ever. For one he was the prettiest boy he'd ever seen- all sharp angles, piercing grey eyes and white blond hair- pity he sneered all the time it made him much less nice to look at.

Draco only have about half and inch on him, after being with Marcus, it took more then an arrogant blond git to faze him- Marcus was everything that Draco was not.

He was huge, and towered over Harry, and Harry honestly thought he looked like some rock star with his shaggy black hair, aviator sunglasses and tight jeans.

He wasn't the kind of person you wanted to end up on the wrong side of- he had no qualms about kicking someones ass. He was a bad ass, and Draco was a pale, pretty boy. He paled in comparison.

Instead of dignifying Draco with an answer, Harry just walked away.

Ron found him at his desk, ten pound history text book already out. "Why'd you just walk off?" he asked, dropping into the seat next to Harry. Hermione never sat with them in the back, she was front and center, she claimed they distracted her.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Dun' know," said Ron grinning.

"You're in an awful good mood after a Malfoy encounter, what gives?" Harry commented.

"Yeah, well, after you walked off he didn't seem to know what to do- it was great! He just shuffled off!" said Ron happily.

"He's not very intimidating is he-" commented Harry idly flipping through the chapter he was supposed to have read the night before.

Ron sniggered, "Nope."

Rather then listen to Binns lecture- his voice had hypnotic powers that guaranteed that by the end of first half and hour at least half the class was asleep. To combat the sheer boredom emanating from Binns, Ron and Harry had taken to playing hang man, it had already begun to lose it's novelty.

Ron was sure they'd be dead before the semester was over. Hermione thought this was silly and often told Ron so- she was the only one who manged to combat Binns hypnotic powers and take notes.

Harry thought she was magical and he and Ron relied on her noted to pass the class. And as there was a test on the civil war the next day, Hermione planned on spending her afternoon in the library studying.

Harry desperately need help - he knew nothing about American history, and as he and Ron came as a pair the three of them ended up huddled around one of the round wooden tabled heads bowed over the open text book. Hermione had pulled her wild hair back into a tight pony tail, note book filled with meticulous notes sat open next to Brinkley's text book.

Harry tried to follow Hermione explanation about early labor unions, but his heart just wasn't in it. Ron wasn't even pretending to pay attention, his head lay on the table, eyes glazed over.

"Now Harry, the end of Chapter seventeen was important. I think you ought to reread it tonight and take notes on the to-knows, I know that I will."

"But it's just so boring," moaned Harry, his head on the table.

"Yeah," added Ron, "at least last year was sort of interesting with the Spartans and that Greek guy Pluto."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes, (she had to suppress a smile), "not Pluto Ron, it's Plato."

"Yeah- whatever, all I'm saying is that it was better then labor unions," grumbled Ron.

Hermione couldn't taken Ron in large doses, if she tried she would go mad, and she had reached her daily limit. She closed the book and shoved it into her already over stuffed bag- it was miracle it hadn't split yet, "fine- if it's that boring do it your self then. I have real work to do with out you two distracting me!" she snapped shrilly and stomped out of the library.

Harry tried to call after her but it was in vain, all he got for his effort was a disapproving look from the tight lipped librarian Madame Price.

Harry slumped in his wooden chair, "great, now we're both going to fail," he moaned.  
"We were gonna fail anyway," said Ron stretching, "Wanna go play call of duty or something? "

"Both boys stood and left the library, "Sure beats studying, but I'm utter balls at anything like that," said Harry.

Ron shrugged, "Doesn't matter, I'm really crap at it too."

Ron stood inside the door leading to the parking lot and groaned, "It's raining again, its November for Christ sake!"

They were going to brave the rain when Ron stopped, it was a long walk to his house, and it was mostly up hill. "What time is it?" he asked Harry,

"Nearly 4:35, why?" responded Harry.

"God we were in there a long time... my brothers get out of practice right about now, they can give us a ride home," the boy's started toward the parking lot.

"Quick!" Ron shouted, "Their about to leave-" the two of them took off across the parking lot, sprinting through the rain towards a old Previa, which at one time may have been blue. Now it was a sad grey.

Harry sat panting in the back dripping on the seat, crammed up against a pile of smelly duffel bags. Ron's lanky frame was bent in all sorts of odd angles to fit in next to him. Two identical red heads sat in the front, and had turned around to look at the two dripping boys in the back seat.

"Would you look at this- it's Ronnie and I dun know who that one is." said the one in the drivers seat.

"Stuff it Fred," muttered Ron scowling.

The boy in the drivers seat rolled his eyes, "I'm George- that's Fred, Honestly you call yourself our brother."

The passenger- Fred looked confused, "I thought I was George."

Ron kicked his seat, "Now look here," said George- the real one, " you better be nice or we'll make you walk, and who's your friend?'

"I'm Harry," said Harry.

"Nice to meet you Harry-"

"Charmed I'm sure-"

"Just simply smashing-"

"Can we go home now?" asked Ron crossly, Harry asked if they did that a lot, Ron just grimaced.

The rust bucket careened out of the parking lot, Harry found much to his dismay that his seat belt didn't work- something about a pretzel getting stuck in it, and as Fred (or was it George, he couldn't tell) took a hard left onto a rut filled dirt road he slid across the seat and crashed into Ron.

"Get Off'," muttered Ron. He was smashed up against the car door, Harry climbed back on to his half of the seat, "sorry mate." 

The car crested the top of a huge hill, when the engine sputtered and died.

"God-Dammit!" Not again, " snapped driver; he pounded on the steering wheel, while the other one darkly muttered, "Piece of shit," under his breath, "Third time this month." 

Fred begrudgingly climbed out of the toasty warmth to see what was wrong, a few minutes later he viciously kicked the front fender and crawled mud covered and dripping into the front seat.

"Now what?"asked Ron.  
"We get out and push," answered Fred, "Harry, you get up front and steer, don't let it go into the ditch or this'll take all night."

"At least its not too far- its just all up hill" said George cheerily.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," muttered Ron.

Harry found himself in the front seat, trying to keep the car on the road while the Weasley brothers struggled to push the car home, much cursing ensued. When they were about half way, Harry switched with a soaking and mud covered Ron. Harry was soon just as wet and dirty, the road was slick, and it was easy to fall in the mud.

Eventually Ron steered the car into the bottom of a long drive way, and stuck his head out of the window, "We gonna leave it down here?"

Fred nodded, he and George were panting, "I'd be suicide to try and get it up that hill."

Ron clambered out, the rain had finally stopped, but the four of them were still soggy and cold.  
"First water usage," called Ron out of the blue.

"Second," the twins chorused, they turned to glare at each other.

But before they could argue Ron piped up, "actually Harry gets second- guest rule."

"Fine, but I third," grumbled George.

All the way up to the house Fred whined about not getting any hot water, George told him at least he'd get to shower before Ginny- and that at least seemed to cheer him up. Harry still wasn't exactly sure what they were on about.

He immediately liked the Weasley's house- it was unlike any he'd ever seen, the second and third stories bent at an odd angle and the whole thing looked like it leaned to the left.

The boys stumped up the steps onto the porch, Harry could hear the rain start up again on the metal roof. The yard was large, a garden wrapped around the front and stretched to the edge of the steep embankment leading to a rushing stream.

Harry followed Ron inside past a huge pile of old discarded mismatched rubber boots. The door led to the kitchen, where Fred and George kicked off their shoes.

"It's bloody freezing in here," muttered one of them.

"So start a fire," said Ron, he showed Harry where to throw his bag and shoes, "Come on Harry lets get dried off."

George wandered into the living room to start a fire, and Fred explored the depths of the fridge, he pulled his head out long enough to inquire about the time, it was nearly five, according to the only working clock down stairs- the one on the temperamental computer, the one of the stove was always wrong.

"Better hurry with that shower Gin'll be home soon," Fred told Ron.

Ron didn't waste any time and dragged Harry up the two flights of stairs to his room, "It's not much, but it works," he said, ear's red. "I think it's brilliant," said Harry.

Ron's room was on the third floor, near to the bath room. The ceiling and one of the walls were slanted, with a sky light that let in more light then the small window over his bed. Everything in Ron's room was orange, from his comforter to the posters emblazon with "Chudley Cannons"

Ron dug around in the low wardrobe against the far wall and tossed Harry pants, a tee-shirt and intensely maroon sweater, a large R on the chest.

"Mum makes them for us every Christmas- she always forgets that I hate maroon, you change, I'll be back in bit then you can have the shower," Ron disappeared into the narrow hall.

Ron didn't take long, neither did Harry, by the time he came down stairs warm and dry; Ron was in the kitchen. George went barreling up the stairs so he and Fred would have time to shower before Ginny got home- she Harry learned was the youngest and only girl in the family, she also apparently used all the hot water.

Ron sat at the kitchen table, when Harry came in, "The tea's nearly done,- then lets go in the living room it's warmer."

All four boys sat around the wood stove, and Harry told them that London weather wasn't all that different since it seemed to rain here all the time any way, when he heard a door slam out side and someone stomp across the porch. The front door flew open, and the boys saw a flash of red as Ginny raced up stairs.

Fred's voice echoed up after her, "Hello to you too, Gin!"

Mrs. Weasley followed, arms full of groceries, "Fred-George-Ron, get in here and help me!" she said, setting the bags down in the kitchen, the boys trooped in, Harry following along, "How was you day- oh hello dear, I don't know you," said Smiling at Harry.

Harry decided that he liked Mrs. Weasley.

He ended up not meeting Ginny until dinner, the family was crowded around the two tables in the kitchen, Mr. Weasley, (Mrs. Weasley told him the two eldest- Bill and Charlie had moved out, but would be back that weekend- Percy was at collage.)

Mrs. Weasley bustled around making a mouth watering dinner. Fred had been elected to tell her about the car trouble- it seemed that George had to last time and Ron was exempt because Harry was over.

"Mum- the car's broke again. We had to push it home its a total piece of shit."

"Fred-! Language!" she snapped, Fred made a face, at her back, "I'm sure it's fine we'll just have Bill take a look at it when he comes home for the weekend," she said.

"Well what are we gonna do for the rest of the week?" asked George. 

"Take the bus- it won't kill you," she told them stirring the peas.

"MUM!" they chorused in outrage.

"Oh-hush! Ignore them Harry dear- their just lazy."

Harry laughed, and Ron kicked him- Harry never wanted to leave.

Mr. Weasley came blustering in the kitchen door with a great gust of wind at his back. "Christ- what a storm," he announced, taking off his sopping overcoat, "Hello Molly, Boy's- oh hello I don't know you" 

"I'm Harry Potter, sir."

"Hello then Harry- you know you ought to call your parents-"

"And tell them your staying over," cut in Mrs. Weasley, "It's not safe in that storm."

"Maybe it's freeze over night and school will be cancel," said Ron dreamily.

"Dream on kid," said Mr. Weasley,

"Here's to hoping," added Fred.

Mrs. Weasley dropped a heavy pan full of scrumptious looking potato's and chicken on the table, "Harry dear, you more them welcome to stay over any time, if you'd like."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, I'd better go call my mum, " Said Harry, "where's the phone?"  
Ron directed him to where the phone ought to be- it wasn't. It cause a house wide search that was ended when Mrs. Weasley yelled up to Ginny, "Ginevra! Dinner and bring the phone down with you!"

Ginny came stomping down the stairs, phone in hand. She dropped it on the table, she huffed and sat on one of the wooden chairs, "Don't call me Ginevra."

Harry was glad the phone had been unearthed and he and other Weasley's didn't have to hunt anymore, as they had quickly run out of plausible places to look, ("well it could be under the couch- or in the stove, I guess- there was that one time" said George, "But that was us-" interjected Fred)

He disappeared unnoticed by Ginny into the living room, phone in hand, he had to pull out his cell phone- he didn't get service this far out into the country, to find his home number. he figured it was time to learn it as it didn't seem likely that his parents would want to leave any time soon.

He dialed, his mother picked up on the second ring.

_"Hello?"_

"Mum, it's me."

_"Harry, where are you? The weather's awful."_

"I'm at my friend Ron's house, his mum said I should stay over,"

_"Well, the weather is bad, I suppose she's right, you should stay over-"_

"Bye Mum,"

When Harry re-entered the kitchen, everyone just sat down to eat, Ron had saved him a spot by the widow.

"She says I can stay- thank you Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, as he sat down, Ginny looked up from her potato's and turned an unusual pink.

"Oh, it's no trouble Harry dear, like I said, you can stay over whenever you'd like."

Harry smiled and tucked into the piles of wonderful food, she'd made. He ate all he could and wished he had room for more. He greatly enjoyed dinner with the Weasley family.

Dinner was spent in pleasant conversation- interspersed with Mrs. Weasley vehemently scolding the twins about something that had the rest of the table in uproarious laughter. After dinner the family, plus Harry moved into the living room- where it was warmer, Harry and Ron did their homework on the rug in front of the wood stove, while the twins split theirs and were done in no time.

Mrs. Weasley grilled each child in turn about their week, and how school was going, it was Ron's turn when Percy called, he cheered quietly.

Ron explained with the help of and an eager Ginny that Percy had bogged of to some Ivy league school learning how to be an even more pompous git. Harry found that Ginny liked to sit just a bit to close for comfort.

Later when he lay on extra mattress on Ron's floor, he was happier then he'd been in a long while. His sides still hurt from laughing, getting the mattress out of Bill- the eldest room, up the stairs and into Ron's room proved quite a project.

It took a good while to clear off Ron's floor, so the mattress could even get into the room. Fred and George had been roped into helping Mrs. Weasley to haul the thing up the stairs, while Ginny watched from the landing.

In the process Harry was nearly knocked down the stairs twice. Now he and Ron lay in the dark, "I think my sister's got a thing for you."

"I noticed," said Harry, sighing.

"So what are you going to do about it?" challenged Ron. Harry quited, this was question that he wanted to answer right.

"Well," he said, " she's a nice girl- and pretty but she's your younger sister and I'm sort of with someone."

Ron seemed to approve of his answer- at least he didn't try and trotted him.

"Oh-who?" asked Ron, he sounded sort of funny.

"Someone back in England.

"Oh, okay, nice." Ron let out a reviled breath.

"You were worried I'd say Hermione weren't you?"

" Well-I-yeah."

"Don't even worry about it- we're just mates. She's mad about you."

"Is she really?" asked Ron hopefully.

"Utter bonkers."

Ron smiled, "awesome."

Long after Ron dropped off, Harry lay awake, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled the blanket over his head. the screen lit up, blinding him, when he could see again, he had no messages, no texts and no missed calls. His heart sank and switched the phone back off, and forced himself to try and sleep.


	5. Marcus

**Part IV: Marcus**

**An. **This is the end. I have to say I loved working on this, and love you all for reviewing ect. Every Review makes me so happy. Thanks so much for sticking with me, through both of these, I loved writing them. I will tell you that this chapter is pretty rough as I want to get it up- so it comes to you un-betaed, meaning if you see a stupid error please let me know so I can fix it! Also PLEASE let me know what you though of the story and the end, the only way I can get better is with feed back! With out further ado is the last chapter ( an Interlude will be posted shortly after this chapter.)

-V

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

It wasn't the same, and that more then anything made Marcus angry. It was late- he didn't know how late, he didn't care.

He lay on his floor, arm thrown over over his eyes, phone in his right hand. He was exhausted, and had at least ten unread messages in his in box- but none of them were from Harry- so they didn't matter. And that's why he was awake- Harry'd call. He always called or had, and now he didn't and it shouldn't bother Marcus really it shouldn't. But it did.

And he had to work the next day- in a few hours and he was just so exhausted. Since Harry'd left it seemed he just couldn't get enough sleep- didn't have the time, he didn't have time for much, expect work.

a few hours later, Bella found him asleep on the floor, Luna stopped the dark haired women from waking him, she held her slender finger to her lips and vanished into the under stocked kitchen, returning with coffee.

She knelt next to Marcus, set the cup down, and gentility shook his arm, he tried to push her away groaning. She persisted, "Marcus, I have coffee," her soft voice, lilted dreamily.

He rubbed his race and sat up the morning sunlight blinding him. He Moaned and covered his eyes, blindly reaching for the coffee. Luna handed him the steaming cup. He drank it quickly, eyes watering from the scorching heat.

"Utter shit," he muttered wiping his mouth and grimacing.

"Then buy better coffee," said Bella

"That costs money that I obviously don't have- need a smoke, be back."

Marcus stood, stiff joints cracking, he shuffled bare foot across the wooden floor. He pulled his his heavy woolen coat from under a pile of records and awkwardly climbed out the living room window. He whacked his head on the way out and cursed, muttering angrily as he hauled the rest of him on to the fire escape.

He leaned against the building, stream of smoke pouring from his lips. The cold stung his cheeks, he looked down from the tenth floor, he could see most of Knockturn alley, the record shop on the corner, with the huddle of people all clad in black out front waiting for it to open. He stubbed out his cigarette, and flipped open his phone. Harry hadn't called.

He shoved it back into his pocket, and forced the sticky window back open, he climbed back into the warmth of his apartment. The girls had left.

He was up earlier then absolutely necessary. He had time to kill, he hoisted himself onto the counter- ignoring the note Bell had left demanding he stop by The Impostor soon or she would eat him. He started in on the stale cereal, as he lacked a table, he found the counter a better alternative to the floor. Without Harry around he didn't really see a need for furniture- he pretty much just slept here.

He munched his way through his second bowl, when his phone rang. He dumped the empty bowl in the sink, flipped it open.

"It's really fucking early."

"On my end it's really fucking late."

Marcus glanced at the clock after some quick mental math asked, "Why in the name of arse are you still awake- don't you have school tomorrow- today whatever-"

"Well, I had to call you didn't I? I'm at my mates had to wait for the great git to fall asleep. God he snores something awful."

Marcus laughed, "so what new in American land- coming home anytime soon?"

"I doubt it- it's gotten better here. I guess. I got honest to god replacement mates- and I didn't even have to kiss either of them to get them to hang out with me."

"You better not have kissed anyone."

"I haven't- but Ron's sister might try. She's mental. I think she's in love with me."

"Girls are mental."

"Don't let Bella hear you saying that." said Harry, he a grinning. He sat on the floor of the bathroom- lights off and leaned against the door, feet against the bath tub.

"I-shit, I gotta go, work," said Marcus, his deep voice distorted by the bad reception,"Later."

"You call me next time."

"Fine."

Long after he'd hung up Harry sat on the multicolored braided rug on the Weasley's bathroom floor. Harry was exhausted, he had school the next day- or in a few hours or whatever and he needed sleep badly. He hauled himself off the floor and snuck down the hall back to Ron's room.

Where the red head snored on uninterrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes, Ron was so typically jock it was amusing. Harry pulled his blanket to his chin and quickly fell asleep. He woke entirely too early, something buzzed loudly near his head, he rolled over groaning.

Ron agreed with his sentiment, and long pale arm snaked out form under a violently orange comforter and groped around from the alarm. Eventually after some experimental whacking, Ron manged to shut it off- then the arm retreated back into the warmth. Both boys lay groggy and still mostly asleep- hoping they could just roll over and go back to sleep.

It wasn't to be, the door opened and Mrs. Weasley stuck in her head, "Ron, Harry- it's time to get up. Breakfast in ten."

Harry sat up, sleepily looking about; the room was still dark. Ron just groaned, muttered something comprehensible and pulled his comforter over his head.

"Ronald Weasley-" his mother shirked, "get up this instant."

Ron- who'd had years of practice, sat bolt up right, "I'm up," he said

But as soon as Mrs. Weasley moved down the hall, ,he flopped back on his bed, pillow over his face. Before she'd left Mrs. Weasley had turned on the light- as to turn it off and sleep Ron would have to get up.

"It's still dark out," moaned Ron, "Harry be a dad and turn off the lights- let a man sleep a little."

Harry snorted, "Ron mate, what exactly is a dad?"

Ron's ears turned red, from under his pillow and he muttered something to do with Fred.

"I'mma have to get up, aren't I..." He groaned. Ron hauled himself up- his flaming red hair stood on end. The two of them hurried as they dressed, Ron didn't want to miss breakfast.

Breakfast was an adventure, Mrs. Weasley stood at the stove shouting order, at the rest of the family. She ruled the chaos in a flowery apron and with a spatula.

Mr. Weasley sat at the end of the table, a cup of coffee in one hand, paper in the other He was completely oblivious to the rest of the family- having lived in the house for over 25 years.

On his way down the stairs Harry was passed by a half dressed twin. The other half dressed twin stood in the living room blearily looking around the room, he paused, cheered pulled a worn pair of cleats from under the couch, grabbed a math book from next to the wood stove bounded over the couch, rushing passed Harry , "Forge!" he bellowed as took the steps two at a time, "I found it!"

He disappeared up stairs somewhere, Harry shook his head and shuffled into the kitchen, "G'morning Mrs. Weasley," he muttered yawning he dropped into the of the worn wooden chairs.

Almost instantly a plate stacked high with steaming pancakes appeared in front of him and he dug in with gusto. "This is delicious, Mrs. Weasley," he said, she smiled and returned to her stove.

Harry worked through his stack of slowly, unfortunately for him a looked up at the wrong second and got a good look at Ron's utterly appalling eating habits. The red head shoveled food into his mouth like it was his job. Ron's thought process was completely lost on him. Instead of trying to understand the oddity that was Ron, Harry returned happily to his pancakes.

Mrs. Weasley shouted up the stairs, spatula held threateningly in one hand, "Fred!George! Ginny! Breakfast!"

The boys thundered down the stairs followed by Ginny. She waltzed in after them and flounced into the chair next to Harry. She tossed her vibrant hair over her shoulder and sent him her most wining smile.

He awkwardly looked away, the calamity of the kitchen had died down, everyone sat haphazardly around the two tables crammed into the kitchen eating peacefully-for the most part. At some point Fred meant to kick Ron but got Ginny. It wasn't to peaceful after that, then when everything had calmed to a dull roar, Fred who was nearest to the window jumped up, "Bus!"

The bus wound it's way toward the Weasley's and all hell broke loose.. Harry calmly slipped on his converse and stood by the door he watched the others running around like mad. Ron was on his knees digging through the pile of shoes by the door swearing loudly, one green shoe was in his hand.

Finally they were all out the door, then Ron remembered he'd forgotten his math book up stairs, he turned and tore back up to the house while the rest of them hurried to the bus.

Harry didn't think Ron was going to make it. He was wrong. The red head slumped into the seat next to Harry red faced and out of breath. "Ugh," he huffed.

"You alright there mate?"

Ron had paled," I just realized I would have been better off just leaving it- I didn't do the homework..."

Harry pulled his back pack into his seat,"wanna just borrow mine?"

"You're a life saver,"

Harry nodded, "Just don't let Hermione-she'll kill me something about work ethic and it not being moral."

"So she gave you that speech too?"

Harry nodded, and handed Ron his battered Math book, stacks of paper sandwiched between the page.

Ron bent low over the book trying to puzzle out Harry's unorganized chicken scratch. Forty minutes later when the bus pulled into the school Ron had just finished sketching a graph- the least problem and shoved his paper into the depths his bag. He tossed Harry is book, "It's done- she won't be able to read it, but it's done and that is all that matters.

They followed the crowd off the bus and shuffled toward the school,"God I could do with a coffee," said Harry wistfully, "Think we could get away with Skiving?"

Ron shook his head as they walked through the front doors,"To late now, what I wouldn't do, but I don't know if it's worth it. Fred and George tried last year, and Mum found out... she went freaking metal, "said Ron shuttering.

"Your mum is sort of terrifying,"Said Harry.

Ron pulled open to the door the library,"You didn't even know the half of it."

Both boys spent most of their free time hold up in the library with Hermione- and more recently a very shy boy named Neville.

Harry thought that he and Luna would have gotten along famously- Ron thought that he was boring. That morning all three three boys had banded together to try and conquer the horrors of the American history text book.

Hermione ignored them, her nose buried in a Ionic bonding lab.

Harry took notes on what he thought would be on the test, but he wasn't hopeful. He was utterly pants at American History- having never had a use for it before, he just hadn't heard of most of it. Ron was just as lost as he was- he however was American and had no excuse to why he didn't know who Taft was.

"Wasn't the fat one- with the bath tub?" asked Ron

"So Taft was fat, but why was he important?" asked Harry

"Wasn't he the president after Wilson," said Neville, as he flipped idly through the text book.

"Did we even have a president named Wilson?" asked Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and muttered, "hopeless, utter hopeless," under her breath, she pulled out her meticulously color coded periodic table, and continued to ignore the struggling boys.

"Ah! Here it is…." Neville had found the page he had been looking for and was about to explain to Harry, what Taft had done that was so important when a high pitched giggle interrupted him.

"Hello boys," said Ginny, she tossed her main of vibrant hair over her shoulder and leaned in what she imaged to be a sexy way on Harry's chair. Ron's face went a odd shade of puce, Harry supposed that he wouldn't have minded her attention if A: he wasn't dating Marcus, and B: She wasn't Ron's little sister.

Ron just stared horrified at her tiny-flattering skirt. Harry ignored her and her two very giggly friends. The one dressed in all purple eyed Ron as though he was something to eat- he didn't notice. But Hermione did. He went sensationally red and ragged on Ginny about her outfit- or lack-there-of.

It seemed that Ginny's plan hadn't gone at all as she had imaged, rather then to continue to let her brother chew her out about the length of her skirt, she attempted to salvage her dignity by flouncing off.

"Don't need to stand here and be talk to in such a manner," she hissed, her hazel eyes narrowed, she turned on her heel, "let get out of here girls." She quickly led them from the library, all three boys relaxing once the doors closed.

"Christ- I don't know what gotten into her, Sorry Harry- Neville," muttered Ron, still red.

"What was that about?" asked an irritable Hermione.

"My crazy sister fancies the arse off Harry," said Ron, "It's ridiculous!"

"Whatever- I'm just glad it's quite again," said Hermione sagely returning to her lab.

"Now as I was saying," said Neville, he proceeded to explain the entire chapter to Ron and Harry in a manner they actually understood. It was the first time that year that Harry really understood History- from that day on Neville became a permanent fixture; his presence was required before tests- because he had the magic ability to make it all simple.

Harry easily fell into a routine; he sent his in school with his few friends, listened to Hermione complain about Lavender Brown after school, she was convinced the vapid girl was going to steal her man away. Harry told her over and over that it wasn't going to happen- Ron didn't even know who Lavender Brown was, and was hopelessly infatuated with Hermione.

He quickly learned it was in his best interests to try and avoid Ginny- which wasn't exactly easy with the amount of time he spent at Ron's house. Even his relationship with his parents had improved-marginally. He doubted that they would ever see eye to eye, but now could at least be in the same room and remain civil. They at least seemed to approve of his choice in friends this time. (Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this.)

He was happy. He had friends again- he still missed the London gang something awful, but he wasn't alone any more. He talked to Marcus nearly every day- it wasn't the same as seeing him but it was better then nothing. Harry thought everything was good, he was content.

Then one day Marcus stopped answering his phone. At first Harry was just annoyed- he knew sometimes Marcus was to busy to get to phone but still his missed him, but days the days passed he worried. Days turned into a week- why wasn't he picking up his phone?

It turned into a obsession, all Harry could think about- he couldn't focus, his grades started to slip and soon Hermione had enough of his "childish behavior". She cornered him after school, when she knew his parents would be out.

She stood in his door way glaring at him, her hands firmly on his hips and demanded to know what was bothering him, "because I know something is- Even Ron's picked up on it and-"

"We both know he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, I know," said Harry, Hermione nodded vigorously. Harry sighed and lay back on his bed, "it's stupid," he admitted.

Hermione sat next to him, and smiled, "It can't be any stupider then listening to me grip on and on about Lavender, can it?"

"It's just- he isn't picking up his phone…" he trailed off, feeling silly.

"Who-oh- Marcus?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Oh, Harry, he's probably just really busy- I'm sure every thing's fine and he'll call back soon."

"It's been nearly two weeks Hermione."

Hermione lay next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, and hugged him, "Have you called Bella, she'll probably know, you always say how she knows everything."

"No I haven't- I should do that, hold on," his dug around in his bag. He pulled out his phone, lay back with Hermione, took a breath and dialed.

Bella answered on the second ring, her voice as always sounded low, and rough, "The Impostor, Bella speaking how may I service you on this dreary night?"

"Bella, its Harry-"

"Oh! YOU-BOY! You haven't called in far too long, I should punish you, oh Harry, we wish you were here,"

Harry smiled sadly, he heard voices in the back ground, "Hold on a moment there I have some hoodlums to yell at," said Bella, he could hear her muffled voice shout out to the café, "Shut up Lee! Harry's on the blower, no you can't talk to him, down boy, Christ! Sit down!"

Her voice returned, "Know your going to have to call everyone or their going to murder you, now knowing you, you haven't just called to chat have you?"

"No, not this time, sorry Bella, I promise next time I will. I just want to know- have you heard from Marcus recently?"

The line was quite a moment, "Why are you asking," replied Bella her voice cautious.

"I-I haven't heard from him in while," he mumbled.

"How long is while, Harry?"

"About two weeks."

Bella sighed, the rush of air crackled over the phone, "I'm sorry I can't help kid, I haven't heard from him for longer then that, and haven't seen him in god knows how long, want me to keep an ear open for anything new about 'em?"

"Alright- thanks, lemme know if you hear anything- yeah?"

"It's a promise, and you better try and come home Harry. We miss you."

"I'll do my best Bella, I miss you all too, so much."

That night Harry didn't sleep well. The next morning was dreary- typical of late March. He arrived at school dower and wrapped in a black coat that was far too big to be his. Hermione turned a blind eye to his sullen attitude, and for once didn't try and get him to focus on his school work.

As always he spent his free period at the end of the day in the library with Hermione and Ron- Neville was off at some appointment, Ron didn't think it was fair he got to leave early even if for a dentist appointment.

It didn't matter how sullen Harry was Ron always managed to cheer him up at least a little bit. Harry leaned on the table, his head resting on his arms, half listening to his friend's conversation, "sort of like the bird tree by my house," said Ron.

"A what?" questioned Hermione, her eye brows raised.

"A Bird tree," he repeated.

"A what?" she asked again still confused.

"Ya know a tree that birds sit in," said Ron, like it was only the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione just looked at Ron unsure of what to say, while Harry sniggered into his arms, "Oh a bird tree, duh." He said grinning.

Ron shrugged, "I though it made sense," he started to pack up, the three of them drifted toward the front doors leading toward the buses.

They stepped out in to the grey, damp March weather, Hermione shivered, "I hate this damp," she said. Ron wrapped his arm around his waist, her face went a faint pink, but she smiled up at his and paused. "Harry?" she asked, eyebrows drawn together, "are you alright?"

Harry had frozen in place, his green eyes impossibly wide; his bag slipped from his shoulder and fell at his feet. "I think I'm going crazy, because what I'm seeing right now can't possibly be real," he breathed.

Hermione twisted about in Ron's to try and see what he was staring at. A boy leaned against the wall that ran parallel to the buses. He was tall; his black hair fell into his face. He had a carelessness about him, and if anything Hermione thought he looked like a rock star in his tight dark jeans and aviator sun glasses.

A smile lit up her face, and shoved Harry, hard, "go! You idiot- go! He's waiting for you!"

Harry glanced at her, looked back towards the wall and started walking. Ron still had no idea what was going on what so ever and just stood there looking bemused.

Harry had meant to walk over calmly and say something witty. But somehow it didn't work out how he planned, instead of saying something at least sort of intelligent, like hello, the only thing that cam out of this mouth was, "Got a cigarette?"

Marcus looked over the top of his sun glasses and grinned his crooked vampire smile, "I'd wondered were that coat had gotten to."

And suddenly Harry was wrapped in Marcus's strong arms. Harry buried his face him Marcus's neck and smiled, he smelled like coffee and cigarettes- just like he was supposed to.

"You wouldn't believe the time I've had getting here," Marcus breathed into Harry's wild hair.

"You'll just have to tell me then won't you," said Harry.

Marcus stepped back against the wall, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and slipped it behind Harry's ear, "now, I do believe you owe us a kiss."

And Harry kissed him.

He wrapped his slender arms around Marcus's neck and firmly pressed their lips together; Marcus pressed back, and ran his tongue over Harry's lips and when he was finally released Harry was breathless. Marcus cuffed his on the shoulder, "Come on, lets get a coffee."

Hermione watched smiling, and patted her very confused boyfriend on the arm- Harry waved as he was led away, and he was happy, so very happy, not just content, but truly happy.

Fin~ 


	6. Interlude II

**Interlude II**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

"How long are you here for?" asked Harry, he wrapped in Marcus arms and leaned against his strong chest, they were off in a park somewhere. Harry was pretty sure they were lost but didn't much care.

"For good,"

Harry twisted around and stared at Marcus wide eyed, mouth open, "Well unless you don't want me," Marcus teased, Harry shook his head rapidly no, "and I'm legal too. What ? don't look at me like that- you think I'd work my asre off to get here only to get shipped back to London? No fucking way. Even I'm not that fucking stupid."

"You're really staying?"

"Really, really and I need your help finding us a flat tomorrow"

"Alright, I heard there's a nice place close to the downtown…."

Marcus pulled Harry closer, all that fucking work had been worth it, and that was that.


End file.
